<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>and we’ll never be royals (but maybe you already are?) by eating_custardinbed</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113180">and we’ll never be royals (but maybe you already are?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed'>eating_custardinbed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Internet Made Me Write It [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT Crowd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bisexual Male Character, Deynholm is a nobleman, Forbidden Love, Gay Male Character, Jen is a maid who is terrible at her job, Love, M/M, Moss works at his mum's bakery, Nonbinary Richmond, Roy is the prince, Royalty, Sneaking Around, there aren't enough au's for this fandom, tw slurs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:59:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy is a prince supposed to inherit the throne, but really he'd rather own a tiny bakery with that lovely boy who he keeps seeing around the kingdom...</p><p>(an IT Crowd royalty au)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Internet Made Me Write It [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and we’ll never be royals (but maybe you already are?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is a request from the lovely @hi-hewwo on tumblr. thanks dude!! i really hope you enjoy this :)</p><p>i actually just want to make the point that quite a few bits of this are based off the cinderella pantomime that i did at school, just without the fairy godmother and the wicked stepmother and all that. what can i say, it was a fairly well-written panto! anyway, i'll stop nattering and let you read the fic :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What about Elsa?"</p><p>"I don't like snow."</p><p>"Okay, then Belle?"</p><p>"Oh no, I don't like reading."</p><p>"Alright, fine. Cinderella." </p><p>"I don't like dancing!" </p><p>Jen let out a frustrated huff, throwing her clipboard down. Sometimes she really did not know why she'd taken this job. It wasn't like she was particularly <em>qualified </em>for it. Thank God the money was good, because otherwise she didn't know what she'd do. </p><p>"Well you must like <em>one </em>of them, sir," she said with a sigh. The prince, sitting up on his father's throne--the one that would one day be his throne--made a face at her. </p><p>"Well I don't!" he exclaimed. "They're just... not right." </p><p>"Sir--"</p><p>"Call me Roy," the prince interrupted. She smiled at him. To be fair, she could have got stuck with someone worse when she signed up to be a royal assistant. From what she'd heard, the prince's sisters could be a right handful. </p><p>"Look, Roy, you're the heir to the throne," she said. "I know it seems like a long way away now, and it is, but one day you will have to provide your own heirs, and for that you need a wife."</p><p>"I'm barely eighteen," he replied. "And anyway, my dad's in good health. Can't this wait another few years?" </p><p>"I'm afraid your father--" </p><p>Before Jen could finish her sentence, she was cut off by the fanfare of trumpets. That meant the king was near. Roy scrambled up from where had been sitting on his father's seat with his legs thrown over the side of the armrest and threw himself into his own throne (which was a step down from his father's), whilst Jen moved to stand up straight to the side of him. A moment later, the large wooden doors to the throne room were flung open and in walked Roy's father, the king. </p><p>He wasn't in his full regal gear, just a royal-looking red waistcoat and his everyday crown rather than his ceremonious one, but Jen couldn't help but reflect on how impressive he looked. Roy didn't seem to be having the same thoughts, instead rolling his eyes a little as his father strutted forward. Jen gave a small curtsey. He smiled at her before taking his throne and looking to his son. </p><p>"Any luck?" he asked. Roy shook his head. He turned to Jen. "I trust you got the list I sent you, Miss Barber." </p><p>"Um, yes sir," she said. She reached for her clipboard, flicking through it. "Er... too sleepy, too cold, too bookish, too dance-y." </p><p>"Roy, my lad, when I was your age--" the king started to say, but his son cut him off. </p><p>"Is this going to be one of your long <em>'when I was your age' </em>stories that don't actually help anything?" he groaned. His father smiled at him. </p><p>"Lad, marriage is just a part of royal life," he said. "You may not particularly like them at first, but over time you'll grow to love them."</p><p>"Did you do that with mum?" Roy asked, arching an eyebrow. His father stopped, looking away to the side. </p><p>"Well no, but..." </p><p>Roy chuckled, and that made his father laugh too. He reached over, clapping his son on the shoulder with a smile on his face. "Have a night off," he said. "Take a guard, go out into the town, just... be a teenager! Try not to get into trouble." </p><p>"Thank you," Roy said. He grinned, turning to Jen. "Hey, Jen, wanna come?" </p><p>She glanced to the king. He gave her a small nod, and she looked back to Roy. </p><p>"Yes sir," she said. Roy smiled at her. </p><p>"We're gonna have the night of our lives."</p><p>***</p><p>It turns out that Roy's idea of "the night of their lives" was wandering aimlessly around the town. </p><p>Having grown up in the town before she became an official palace advisor two years ago, Jen knew this place like the back of her hand. Roy, who had spent his childhood within the grounds of the palace and not many places else, insisted on her showing him around. A guard was reluctantly trailing behind them. Jen was very aware of the townspeople gawking at Roy. Most of them had only seen the young prince in pictures or on the television. </p><p>"Is there anywhere good to get food here?" Roy asked. They'd been in the town for about an hour and a half by this point, and had just come out of the pub. Roy had had a couple of beers, but Jen had decided to stay sober. After all, if something happened to the crown prince it would be on her head. </p><p>"There's a bakery down the road," she said. "They do pretty good sandwiches this time of night." </p><p>Roy grinned at her, and they began to make their way down towards the bakery. </p><p>It didn't take long for them to reach the bakery. It was only small, but it was rather pretty, and the place seemed busy despite it already starting to get a little dark. The guard insisted on going in first and scouting the shop out. He had actually wanted to shoo everyone out, but Roy had sternly told him not to. So, the guard had gone in, checked around for anyone suspicious and then had let them in. </p><p>It turns out that the guard didn't have to shoo anyone out, because the minute Roy entered the shop everybody cleared out. It seemed like they were almost scared of being in the same place as the prince lest something happen to him and they were held responsible. Roy looked around the room in confusion, and Jen noticed the pout on his face. There was nobody at the front counter. Jen came forward, ringing the bell. </p><p>A moment later, a young man appeared. Well, he was more like a boy, but Jen knew him, from before. He leaned over the counter, surveying the shop and apparently not noticing the three of them stood there. Jen couldn’t help but turn around and look at the panicked expression of Roy’s face. Good. Her plan was coming to fruition.</p><p>”Mum, there’s no-one here!” he shouted back. There was a reply, but Jen couldn’t make out what had been said. </p><p>Then Moss turned back and saw her. </p><p>“Jen!” he exclaimed. She smiled at him, coming forward. They shared a smile. “Why are you here? I thought you were part of the king’s court?”</p><p>”I am,” she said, grinning before stepping aside and revealing Roy. </p><p>Moss completely froze. Roy may have only been in a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt, but he was still recognisably the crown prince. After a moment Moss turned, rushing to the back door. </p><p>“MUM!” he practically screamed upstairs. “Get down here!”</p><p>”I’m busy, love!” was the shouted reply. </p><p>There was a moment before Moss turned back. When he did he was standing up ramrod straight, trembling a little. </p><p>“Hello, um, what can I, er, deliv— <em>flip! </em>Hi, what can we— sorry, um—“</p><p>”It’s okay,” Roy laughed, coming forward. Jen could tell he was trying to act suave, but he wasn’t fooling her. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him, stifling a giggle. </p><p>“Thank you, your royal highness.”</p><p>”Call me Roy, please,” he said, chuckling warmly. Moss gave him a shy smile. “None of the ‘your highness’ bullshit. I’m not my father.” Moss giggled, nodding. “Now, my wonderful assistant tells me you do the most brilliant sandwiches?”</p><p>”We do,” Moss replied. “My father’s recipe.”</p><p>”We’ll take two.” Then Roy cast a look back at the guard. He leaned forward, grinning at Moss. “Actually, better make that three.”</p><p>Moss laughed, nodded and then turned to make the sandwiches. </p><p>Whilst Roy was busy talking to the guard, Jen slipped forward. Moss was leaning on the table behind the counter, watching Roy whilst he was waiting for the sandwiches to toast. </p><p>“Hi,” he said, straightening up when he noticed her. “How’s royal life treating you?”</p><p>”Alright,” Jen replied with a shrug. “It’s hard sometimes, but the prince really is okay and the money’s good.” There was pause. “What about you? Did you finish college like you said you would?”</p><p>Moss stopped. He looked down, shaking his head.</p><p>”Um, no,” he said.</p><p>”What!? Why not?”</p><p>There was a moment. </p><p>“My, um, my dad passed,” he said. Jen gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. When her own parents had passed away when she was just fourteen, Moss’ dad had taken her in and treated her like she was his own. “I had to drop out to help mum here.”</p><p>”God, I’m sorry,” she said. “How long has it been?”</p><p>”About a year,” he replied. “But it’s okay. We’re getting on. His sandwiches are still a bestseller.”</p><p>They shared a chuckle. They both remembered summers as teenagers spent working together in the bakery, Moss’ mum yelling orders in the nicest way possible and Moss’ father sneaking them treats and pieces of pastry he’d messed up or misshaped. Sometimes Jen missed it, after long days of tedious admin and dealing with insufferable bureaucrats.</p><p>All of a sudden, there was a beeping and—</p><p>“The sandwiches!” Moss squeaked. He rushed over, pulling them out of the toaster. They were a little crispier than they were supposed to be, but they weren’t burned and so Moss was taking that as a win. He wrapped them quickly in tinfoil, putting them in a paper bag before pushing them across the counter. </p><p>“How much?” Roy asked as he came forward. Moss smiled, shaking his head. </p><p>“No charge,” he said. “Consider it on the house.” </p><p>“Seriously now,” the prince replied. “How much?” </p><p>“My answer stands.” At this Moss smiled, leaning forward. “We’d never charge somebody as pretty as you are anyway. Standard policy.” </p><p>Roy blushed and stutterer in response. Moss blushed too, looking down at the counter. Jen rolled her eyes again, reaching forward and taking the bag. She and the guard left, and Moss thought Roy was leaving too, but then the prince reached forward and grabbed him gently by the arm. </p><p>“Tomorrow night, midnight, the courtyard,” he said lowly. “Meet me?” </p><p>His aforementioned confidence suddenly gone, Moss found himself unable to do anything more than nod. The prince smiled, giving his arm a slight squeeze before letting him go and leaving the shop. </p><p>Moss was left in awe, not quite believing what had just happened. </p><p>***</p><p>Sure enough, after closing the next night Moss went to his mother and told her he was going out. </p><p>“Where to?” his mother asked, smiling at him as they prepared products ready for the next day. </p><p>“Just the courtyard,” he said with a slight shrug. </p><p>“Meeting anyone?”</p><p>”A friend, of sorts.” </p><p>“A <em>love </em>interest?”</p><p>”Mum!” Moss exclaimed. He could feel his cheeks flushing. His mother chuckled, shaking her head. </p><p>“Have fun,” she said with a smile. “What time will you be back?” </p><p>“I’m not sure. We’re meeting at midnight.” </p><p>His mum wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he flicked some flour at her to get her to change the subject. </p><p>***</p><p>As it turned out, sneaking out of a highly monitored castle with a state-of-the-art security system is a lot harder than it seems. </p><p>Roy knew he couldn’t get away with just waltzing out of the front door. No, there would be guards there, and they would either stop him or tell his father. Roy wasn’t sure which was worse. Either way, it rendered the front door a useless option. He could have climbed out of the window and abseiled down using bedsheets or something, but his room was on the third floor and he wasn’t sure if he had enough bedsheets to get down to the floor. </p><p>So, he did the only thing he could think to do. He went and enlisted the help of his sister. </p><p>Roy had three sisters. All of them were older than him, and for a long while had been more than a little bitter about their baby brother jumping ahead of them in the line for inheritance. Over time they had to come to accept this fact, and now all three of the sisters were actually rather glad that they (hopefully) weren’t ever going to inherit the throne as they had watched the grooming their brother had gone through from birth to prepare him for royal life. The two oldest sisters were already married, living away with their husbands and families, but Roy’s third-oldest sister was only twenty-one and so was still living in the castle. </p><p>Jessica had gotten into quite a bit of trouble as a teenager. She had been terrible for sneaking out in the middle of the night, having whirlwind midnight romances with the stable boys and the town boys. Roy attributed a lot of the high security to her. Now she was older, she had mellowed out a little, but Roy knew that she would still help him get out. </p><p>As he walked through the corridor towards his sister’s room, he couldn’t help but run his eyes over the portraits on the walls. There were paintings of each king going all the way back some three or four hundred years, all done by the best oil painter in the kingdom at the time. Roy still remembered being a young boy, sitting and watching as his father sat stock still in his full regal outfit, having his portrait painted.</p><p>”One day, your painting will be on this wall,” his father had told him afterwards as he carried him down the vast corridors on his shoulders, pointing to where the last painting hung. </p><p>He tried to shake the thought from his mind as he knocked on his sister’s door. </p><p>“Come in!” his sister called. Checking quickly for guards, he slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. </p><p>Given that it was already 11p.m, his sister was in her pyjamas getting ready for bed. She looked very different sitting her in an oversized t-shirts and shorts, with her hair up in a messy bun, then she did when she left the castle. She glanced over at him before looking back to her phone, but then she looked back up at him when she realised that he was standing with his back to the door, looking around nervously. “What is it?” she asked. </p><p>“I need you to help me sneak out,” he said. </p><p>His sister smirked, clicking her phone off and putting it down. She gestured him over and did so, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Look, you’re the only one in this whole place who knows how to get out who I can actually trust not to tell mum or dad.” </p><p>“Where are you going?” she asked. When Roy didn’t answer, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Who are you meeting?” </p><p>“Just someone,” Roy said quickly. </p><p>“A girl?” </p><p>“A boy,” he replied, his voice quiet. His sister made a small noise of understanding. She was the only one who her brother had told about his bisexuality. He looked up at her desperately. “But it’s not serious, okay!? I’ve only met him once and we barely talked, but I... I need to know more about him.” </p><p>“Alright,” his sister said after a moment. He did looked excited, after all, wearing one of of his best shirts and his newest jeans. He smiled brightly at her, mouthing a <em>“thank you” </em>to her. “But promise me you’ll stay safe? You’re the cr—“ </p><p>“Crown prince, I know,” Roy grumbled. “I’ve been told enough times. I will be, alright? Now show me how to get out.” </p><p>His sister smirked again before getting up and opening the curtains. </p><p>“I’ll create a distraction,” she said. “That should give you enough time to sneak out the back door. Go all the way down the tower, and then when you think you've reached the bottom open the door to the "broom cupboard" and go down some more. It comes out in the shed close to the edge of the grounds, so you should be able to hop the low fence there. If you’re coming back late, Hamish will be on the night guard and he always falls asleep. Be quiet, and you shouldn’t get caught.” </p><p>Roy grinned at his sister. </p><p>"Thank you," he said. There was more sincerity in his voice than Jessica had ever heard before. She smiled at him, nodding. </p><p>"Go, quickly," she said. "Hide behind the suit of armour in the hallway, and wait for the signal." </p><p>"What's the signal?" </p><p>"Trust me, you'll hear it." </p><p>Roy nodded, taking his sister's word. Quietly he slipped out of the room, doing as she had said and hiding behind the suit of armour. It perfectly camouflaged him. There was a moment of silence, and then his sister started to <em>shriek</em>. </p><p>It was such a convincing shriek that Roy almost entirely forgot that she was supposed to be making a disturbance. He was ready to run back out and into her room, but then he heard the footfall of the guards and he realised that this was his chance. He waited for a moment, luckily being able to see who was in the corridor. All of the guards went past at once: there was now no-one in that small section of the castle, or the back door. "A man, a man, there was a man in the window!" he could faintly hear his sister saying. </p><p>He took his chance. Jumping out from behind the armour, he sprinted up the corridor, quickly reaching the back door of that floor. Glancing around, he made sure nobody was there before going through the back door. </p><p>This door led into the tower that stood at the far right end of the castle. It contained the spiral staircase that Roy and his sisters some years earlier had converted into a rudimentary Helter Skelter of sorts. It had consisted of a number of sleeping mats and a large metal serving tray stolen from the kitchens, and had resulted in Roy having to get two stitches from the castle doctor. After that, their father had invested in an outdoor play set and there had been no further injuries (from that staircase, anyway). As his sister had said, when he got to what he believed to be the bottom, he moved around and opened what his father was told him was an old storage cupboard full of spiders. He may have been right on the spider part, but behind the door was a whole new staircase. Roy rushed down it, careful to close the door as softly as he could behind him. </p><p>Then he ran as fast as he could down the staircase, over the fence and out of the castle. </p><p>It didn't take him long to get to the courtyard. The courtyard was the only place he knew of properly in the town, because that was where the Remembrance Day service was held every year. The streets were pretty much deserted, but Roy kept to the shadows. He felt very secretive, a bit like a MI5 agent or something. He was enjoying it far too much. </p><p>Moss wasn't there when he got there. To be fair, Roy reasoned, he himself was early. He moved over to the summerhouse in the middle of the courtyard, trying to stand still but finding himself unable to. He started to walk around the summerhouse. He couldn't help but start to worry now. What if someone found him? What if the boy had blabbed to the press and they swamped him, catching him at midnight in a dark part of town where he had no business being. Rumours would fly, his father would be furious... Oh God, why had he done this? </p><p>Then he spotted Moss coming towards the summerhouse, and all of his fears melted away. </p><p>"Hey," he said as Moss reached him. The boy smiled shyly, looking down at his feet before looking back up at Roy. "It's, um... it's good to see you again." </p><p>"You too," Moss replied. There was an awkward moment as Moss looking off into space and Roy took an intense interest in how he was scuffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. Just as Moss opened his mouth to speak Roy cut him off. </p><p>"Look, I know we're not gonna have anything in common because I'm a stupidly sheltered rich kid, but I think you're nice, really nice, and I just want one <em>normal </em>friendship-- shit, I want <em>any </em>friendship," he babbled. He continued to talk for some times after this, nothing of too much note, but throughout the whole thing Moss was smiling and nodding. Eventually he reached forward, taking Roy's hands in his. That stopped Roy talking.</p><p>"It's okay," Moss said gently. "Just... tell me what you like." </p><p>Roy nodded, taking a deep breath. He chuckled, smiling a little as he looked up at Moss. He couldn't help but realise how close they really were to each other. </p><p>"Er, computers," he said with a grin. The look of joy that broke out on Moss' face made Roy's chest feel all warm and fuzzy. </p><p>"Me too!" Moss exclaimed. They both giggled a little, smiling at each other. "Although I guess you'll know more than me." </p><p>"You strike me as the clever type," Roy said. "Me, I could never concentrate in any of my classes. Passed by the skin of my teeth."</p><p>"Did your father not pay for the exam results?"</p><p>"Policy of his. You don't get anywhere in life just using your status to make people do what you want."</p><p>Moss made an impressed noise. </p><p>"I have to say, you're different to what I thought," he said. Roy cocked his head to the side. </p><p>"Why, what did you think I'd be like?" </p><p>The other boy shrugged.</p><p>”Stuck up?” He paused, thinking. “I’m not really sure, but all I know is that you’re not. You’re... nicer than I expected.” </p><p>Roy smiled at him. Unconsciously he reached forward, taking Moss’ hand. Moss smiled shyly at him. </p><p>“My father is holding a ball next week,” Roy said. “You should come.”</p><p>At this, Moss blushed. He took his hand away, shaking his head a little. </p><p>“I can’t,” he said. </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>”I don’t have the status.” There was a pause, and Moss sighed. “I’m just the baker’s son. I wouldn’t last two minutes in your world.”</p><p>”Moss, <em>I </em>barely survive in my world,” Roy insisted. He came forward, taking Moss’ hands again. “Please. By special invitation of the crown prince himself. Come to the ball.” </p><p>There was a long stretch of silence, and Roy had been about to sigh defeatedly and move away when Moss smiled.</p><p>”Okay.”</p><p>”So you’ll come?” Roy exclaimed excitedly. Moss giggled, nodding. </p><p>“I’ll come,” he said. “I think I’ll have to go shopping, though!”</p><p>”This weekend, I’ll take you,” Roy replied quickly. Moss made a confused face.</p><p>”Will you be allowed out?”</p><p>”I always have my weekends free to do what I want. I’ve just never had cause to use this freedom before.” Roy smiled, inching a little closer. “And trust me, seeing your beautiful face once again is more than cause enough.”</p><p>This was enough for Moss to cough and splutter, his face flushing in a most brilliant way. Roy couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he let Moss go, stepping back. “I have to get back to the castle before anyone notices I’m gone,” he said. “But shall I pick you up at, say, ten on Saturday?” </p><p>“Sounds lovely,” Moss said. In a moment of confidence, Roy leaned forward and kissed the other gently on the cheek. Before Moss could say anything, he smiled at him and turned, quickly walking away from the summerhouse. </p><p>He didn’t see how Moss raised his hand to where he had kissed him, and how he watched him go with a look of utter infatuation in his eyes. </p><p>***</p><p>For the days that followed, Roy found himself unable to think about much more than Moss. Since he was only just eighteen, his father was still insisting he got some qualifications other than his base exams. He had decided to only take one—computing—but it still meant a couple of days a week with the castle tutor, the same one he’d had since he was a little boy. </p><p>“And that means that— Roy, are you listening to me!?”</p><p>”What?” Roy said as he snapped out of his daydream, looking over to the teacher. He had his arms folded, tapping his foot and glaring at Roy. “Uh, yeah, sorry sir.” </p><p>“You know what, let’s take a break,” he said. “You’ve clearly got something on your mind.”</p><p>Part of Roy wanted to protest, but the lazy part of him won out and he nodded. The two of them walked out of the classroom, and straight away Roy rushed away down the corridor. </p><p>God, he couldn’t wait to see Moss again. </p><p>***</p><p>Luckily Saturday morning rolled around fairly quickly. That morning at breakfast Roy commandeered a car from his father, saying at first that he would drive himself but eventually relenting to his father’s insistence that he would take a driver. He asked for money too, and was surprised that his parents gave it to him without even asking what he wanted it for. If anything, they seemed pleased that he was actually going out. They told him to be careful but to enjoy himself as well. He smiled at them, winked at his sister and left the house. </p><p>The car drew up outside of the bakery just before ten. The town was already busy, but most people were standing and staring at the car as it rolled down the street. Even though he was thankful for the tinted back windows, he couldn’t help but feel a deep hatred for the flags he knew were on the car. Why did they need them? They were useless. He couldn’t help but huff a little as he sat back against the seat. However the second he saw the bakery he perked up. Moss was waiting outside of the shop. When the car stopped Roy jumped out, ignoring the stares as he approached Roy. </p><p>“You ready to go?” he asked with a smile. Moss grinned, nodding. Roy offered him his arm, and Moss took it. “Let’s go.”</p><p>”Which shop are going to?” Moss asked as the car pulled off. Roy turned to look at him, a smile on his face. </p><p>“Our family have used this little tailor’s shop for years,” he said. All of a sudden Moss looked anxious. </p><p>“Roy, I can’t afford—“</p><p>”What made you think you were paying?”</p><p>Moss stopped. Then he smiled, looking down at his lap. </p><p>“Thank you. You really didn’t have to.”</p><p>”Anything for you, my dear.” </p><p>***</p><p>The trip to the tailor’s had been very fun— whilst they were inside the shop. </p><p>Having known that the crown prince was coming, the tailor had cancelled all appointments and ensured that the shop would be empty. The boys had spent a good few hours in the shop, and Roy had insisted on buying Moss two suits as well as some more comfortable tailored trousers that would be delivered in a couple of days and a particular jumper than Moss had fallen in love with the minute he’d tried it on. Roy had bought himself a new jumper, given that his own favourite one had recently acquired a hole. Moss had been thanking him profusely throughout the day, and had produced a number of cream cakes from his bag from the bakery when they'd got to the tailor's. Roy had fallen into a fit of laughter at the look on the tailor's face when he'd walked in and seen them sitting on the luxury velvet chaise longue eating flaky pastry. When Moss had got cream on his nose and Roy had reached forward and gently wiped it away with his thumb, he could have sworn he felt a bolt of electricity run through him.</p><p>But when they stepped out of the shop, it all went to shit. </p><p>They'd been so engrossed in talking to each other that neither of them had looked outside the window. They were still talking as the tailor bid them farewell and let them go towards the door. Roy went first, looking behind to smile at Moss as he opened the door and stepped out. </p><p>Immediately the lights started flashing. Roy knew them far too well. He knew them from family "trips" and from virtually every time he went anywhere. Luckily Moss was behind him, so he knew that the photographers hadn't seen him. When the reporters saw Roy they all surged forward, shouting questions and demands and requests. Roy turned straight back around, making sure to stay in front of Moss. </p><p>"Get back inside, now," he hissed. Moss nodded, his eyes wide with panic. They quickly ran back into the shop, Roy slamming the door behind him and standing with his back to it. There was a moment, and then Roy let out a long shaky breath, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. </p><p>"For what?" Moss whispered, confused. He stepped forward. Roy looked up at him. </p><p>"In a minute, we're gonna have to walk out through all of them," he said. "They're going to take pictures, they'll be in all the newspapers. I'm used to that, but you're not. It's horrible."</p><p>Moss reached up, resting his hands on Roy's cheeks. He tilted Roy's head up from the floor to get him to look at him. Smiling, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Roy's lips. Once he broke away, he took Roy's hand in his, entangling their fingers. </p><p>"Well," he said softly. "I guess we better get it over with." </p><p>Roy nodded, finding himself unable to do much more. He watched as Moss held his head high, picking up his bags with his suits in before going forward and opening the door. Normally when going through press, Roy would try to keep his head down, but watching Moss' confidence made him want to hold his head high just as his friend (?) was doing.</p><p>With one last look at each other, they walked out into the sea of reporters. </p><p>***</p><p>The five days leading up to the ball were something quite spectacular. Obviously the reporters had picked up on the hand-holding, and rumours had been flying around the kingdom and far beyond about the young prince's sexuality. So much so that the day after the story broke, Roy's parents had sat him down and asked him what was going on. Roy had been truthful, and, thank God, his parents had been accepting. His father had been a little worried about the issue of heirs, but as Roy had pointed out he had his sisters, and they had children too. Plus, there was always the option of adoption or surrogacy should he end up with a man. He was hesitant to put a label on what he and Moss had: barely two weeks ago they had not known each other, and now the press was buzzing with the rumours of their impending engagement. Should they not be permitted a normal courtship, Roy wondered. Then he felt shocked and wondered how he'd started thinking like his father. </p><p>Roy was unbelievably nervous for the ball. It would be the first time he would see Moss since the tailor's, and indeed the first time he would see Moss in the suit he'd bought whilst they'd been there. The tailor (who Roy, trusting his life to the man, had explained the situation to) had insisted on it being a secret. He found himself pacing around the castle, climbing the huge staircases and then sliding down the banisters, much to his mother's displeasure. He had walked around the huge banquet hall too, no doubt getting in the way of everyone there as he took it upon himself to try and do the longest slide possible across the dancefloor. Eventually they kicked him out, and he spent the rest of the day moping around until it finally came to him having to get ready. </p><p>The first guests were arriving at six. This was the Prime Minister, some of the Lords, all the really important people. His father insisted that he should be there for the pre-dinner drinks, now that he was old enough. Roy was dreading it. One of the nobles, Deynholm Reynhom, had a son called Douglas who was about Roy's age. Roy hated this boy. He was stuck-up, conceited and creepy, especially with the young women. Luckily, his father had informed him that the Avenal's would be attending that evening. They too had a kid around Roy's age, Richmond. For years Roy had found them rather strange, but over the past couple of encounters Roy had really found himself warming to them. At least Richmond would be more tolerable than Douglas. </p><p>"You really think it's going to be okay, Jen?" he asked his assistant as he sat in his room, trying to towel-dry his hair. Jen huffed, coming forward and taking the towel from him before grabbing the hairdryer. </p><p>"Of course it is," she said. "You're overthinking it again." </p><p>"I know, I know," he replied. "But everyone's expectin' me to get down on one knee and pop the question to this boy I've only known for a week or so!" </p><p>"But you're not going to?"</p><p>"Course not. I need to get to know him, like <em>really </em>get to know him." At this Jen giggled, and Roy shot her a deadly look. Soon after his face split into a grin. "Not like that! I mean like... y'know, dating. Like normal people." </p><p>"Royals don't tend to date," Jen pointed out as she ran a comb through Roy's hair whilst drying it. </p><p>"My dad did." </p><p>"Your dad was different. He was never supposed to be king. You are."</p><p>"I know," Roy said with a sigh. "Sometimes I just want to run off. Change my name, identity, everything. Moss and I can get a little bakery somewhere." </p><p>"Can you imagine the chaos of you and Moss running a bakery?" Jen chortled. Roy chuckled, nodding. </p><p>"Do you ever wonder if, in another life, we'd all know each other?" he asked after a moment. Jen shrugged, then gave him a strange look as she shut the hairdryer off. </p><p>"This is very deep for half past five on a Friday night," she said. </p><p>"You should hear me when I get a few beers inside me," he remarked. She laughed, shaking her head. </p><p>"Look, I know it's scary," she said. "But your father doesn't expect you to propose immediately, and that's what matters. So enjoy yourself tonight. Have a dance, chat with people you hate and for God's sake get Moss drunk." At this Roy snorted with laughter, looking down. "Please. For me."</p><p>"I'll see what I can do," he said. Then he smiled at her. "Thank you, Jen." </p><p>"Anytime," she said briskly. "Now go and get ready! Your father will have my guts for garters if you show up late!" </p><p>Roy did as he was told. </p><p>***</p><p>As Roy had predicted, Douglas was as stuck-up and awful as ever. The older men had quickly retreated to the study for pre-dinner drinks, leaving the children in the library. This was a room that Roy loved the aesthetic of, but rarely used. There were a few girls who were a couple of years younger than Douglas, Richmond and himself, one who the second her father disappeared into the study and her mother moved to the powder room pulled a cigarette out of her purse and lit it up, and one who kept glancing shyly at Richmond, but Douglas' usual perverted attentions were today turned on Jen, who was stood to the side of the room. Roy couldn't help but feel a little protective over her. Finally, after Douglas' fourth advance he had had enough. He put his drink down on the table, moving forward. </p><p>"Alright, that's enough Douglas," he said, resting his hand on the other boy's shoulder. Douglas turned to look at him, a look of almost disgust on his face. Roy guessed that no-one had ever told him no before. He'd certainly never heard the boy's father utter the word to his son. </p><p>"What business of yours is it?" he asked rudely. Roy suppressed a sigh, glaring at him.</p><p>"She's my assistant," he replied. "Now away. Go on." </p><p>"She doesn't want me to," Douglas said. He put his hand on the wall above Jen's head, leaning closer towards her. Roy watched, his blood boiling with anger as he watched Jen flinch. "Do you?" </p><p>"I said that's <em>enough</em>!" Roy yelled. He grabbed Douglas' arm, pulling him away from Jen. He shot her a little look to see if she was okay, and she nodded sharply. Douglas let out a harsh laugh, pulling his arm from Roy's grip. </p><p>"Just because you're the prince you think you're all that," he growled. "Hell, you don't even sound like you're from here!" </p><p>"Neither does my father," Roy said curtly. "He was raised away from all of this due to the war at the time, you know that." </p><p>"My father fought in that war," Douglas said. "So did my grandfather."</p><p>"As did mine," Roy cut in. </p><p>"What was your father doing during the war?" Douglas demanded. He paused for a moment, but before Roy could answer he started talking again. "Oh, that's right. He was frolicking off in some far flung place, not caring about the future of <em>his </em>people!" </p><p>"Don't you dare speak about my father like that," Roy hissed. Douglas barked out a laugh. The girls had edged away into the powder room, and Richmond had pressed themselves against a corner, clutching their drink close to them. </p><p>"I'm just speaking the truth." </p><p>"He was seven years old when the war started! He cannot help that your father happens to be about ten years older than him!" </p><p>"Your family did nothing during the war," Douglas snarled. "<em>Nothing</em>. Just as you will do nothing for this kingdom, you faggot." </p><p>There was a shocked silence. Jen brought her hands to her mouth, whilst Richmond's dropped open. </p><p>"What did you just call me?" Roy asked. His voice was low, full of what Jen could tell was a dangerous sort of anger. Douglas seemed to sense it too, as his shoulders dropped a little, but only for a moment before he restored himself to his full height. Even so, Roy still towered above him, even more so once he stepped forward, reaching forward and grabbing Douglas' jacket. "I <em>said," </em>he leaned in closer to Douglas, so close he could feel the other boy's breath on his cheeks. He'd been drinking. "What did you just call me?" </p><p>"I think you heard," Douglas replied. There was a hint of uncomfortableness in his voice. Roy narrowed his eyes at him. As Jen watched Roy's hand curl into a fist, she knew she had to intervene. She came forward, gently putting her hand on Roy's shoulder. </p><p>"Leave it," she said. "It's not worth it." </p><p>There was a moment, but then Roy nodded. He let Douglas go, stepping away from him. </p><p>"My father will hear about this," Douglas muttered as he brushed himself down. Roy turned slowly to look at him, letting out a short laugh. </p><p>"Yourfather?" he said, giving him a disbelieving look. "<em>Your </em>father? My father is the most powerful man in the kingdom. Your father doesn't even crack the top ten, so I'd watch where you're fucking stepping using your daddy's precious protection. One day it won't be enough to protect you." </p><p>Douglas flushed a deep red, but didn't say anymore. Roy nodded, now feeling like he'd said enough as he turned away. "You okay?" he asked Jen softly. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. She glanced over at Douglas, who was glaring daggers at Roy's back. "You're going to get into trouble for that." </p><p>"He was in the wrong," Roy simply said. "Even his father's influence doesn't stretch to excuse blatant wrongdoing." </p><p>The air was stiflingly awkward until the elders finally emerged from the study and everyone moved into the main banquet hall as other guests began to arrive. The doorman would announce each one, and each time the old man's dulcet tones echoed across the room Roy would look up hopefully, slumping back down when he realised that it wasn't Moss. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Douglas talking to Deynholm and occasionally looking over to where Roy was standing, so made sure to send Jen over to his father to explain what had <em>actually </em>happened. If Douglas tried to say otherwise, they would pull the CCTV from the library. </p><p>Eventually, Moss did show up. It was after the dinner, as most guests were only invited to the latter part of the evening. Not being of nobility meant that this was the status of Moss' invite. As soon as the doorman announced him Roy jumped up, rushing over to the door. It opened and revealed Moss. </p><p>He looked stunning. His suit was perfectly tailored, and he looked effortlessly beautiful. Roy felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him as he stared at him. Slowly Moss turned to look at him, giving him a nervous smile. </p><p>"How do I look?" he asked. </p><p>"Stunning," Roy managed to say once he'd gotten his breath back. He held his hand out. "Can I steal you for a dance?"</p><p>A shy look on his face, Moss reached forward and took the prince's proffered hand. </p><p>"You may." </p><p>They moved towards the dancefloor. Throughout his childhood Roy had been taught how to ballroom dance, although he'd never been very good. As one of his teachers had proclaimed in exasperation, he seemed to have two left feet. That said, he was able to dance somewhat successfully, or at least without treading on his partner's toes <em>too </em>many times. As they neared the dancefloor, however, Moss tugged on his hand. Roy stopped, turning to him. "I don't know how to dance," Moss said somewhat desperately. </p><p>"Don't worry, I can teach you..." Roy said, letting himself trail off. Moss watched him anxiously. "Somewhat." </p><p>Moss giggled at that. He nodded, and the two of them made their way onto the dancefloor. Once there, someone must have notified the orchestra as the music started up. "Right," Roy said. "So, one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder, like... <em>so.</em>" Here, he moved Moss' hands into the right position. He did the same to Moss as he hoped he wasn't blushing too much. "When I step in with one foot, you step out with that same foot." They tried this, but Moss moved the wrong foot and so they both ended up standing on each other's toes. They both let out hisses of pain. </p><p>"Sorry," Moss said a little miserably. Roy chuckled. </p><p>"Don't be," he said. "It took me nearly ten years to master this." </p><p>"Ten years!?" Moss exclaimed. Roy nodded. The other boy groaned, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Roy's shoulder. "Well I've got no chance, have I!?" </p><p>"I'd say you have plenty of chance," Roy said. He held his hand out. "Come on, let's have another go." </p><p>They did so. They actually had another twenty-three goes. All went fairly disastrously, but eventually they managed to get into a rhythm, swaying around the dancefloor. Roy even gave Moss a couple of bold twirls. When the others noticed the two dancing, the floor was quickly cleared until it was only the two of them left. Moss didn't realise, too busy fitting too <em>damn </em>perfectly into Roy's arms, but Roy was acutely aware of it. He could feel the ring box his father had given him weighing in his pocket. His father's words echoed around his head: <em>you don't have to give it to him, but you will know if it is right. </em>If this wasn't right, then Roy didn't want to know. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, he drew to a stop. Moss, who had been lost in the rhythm, continued to move for a minute, bumping into him. He stopped then, looking at Roy in confusion. </p><p>"Roy?" he said. "What is it?" </p><p>"I really like you," Roy replied. Moss blinked, clearly not expecting this. "I'm hesitant to call it love, but... I think it might be." He took another shaky breath before letting Moss go and kneeling down, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the ring box and popped it open. Moss had his hand over his mouth. "Will you marry me?" </p><p>"This-this is all moving so fast, I-I..." Moss stammered. </p><p>"We don't have to get married right away," Roy said. "If it goes wrong we can break it off. But I... I think I love you, Moss." </p><p>There was a pause. Everyone in the room was waiting with baited breath. In what Roy dubbed as <em>Press Avenue, </em>cameras were clicking and pens scribbling. And then--</p><p>"Okay." </p><p>Roy had never realised that one word would bring him such joy. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thankyou for reading this!! i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. please leave comments and/or kudos if you can, they make me so happy!! </p><p>stay safe and happy, y'all xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>